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Chapter 9
Lady Rose had never once imagined that Helen would dare to openly defy her.
Her eldest daughter had always been the very image of perfection… or so she believed.
Before speaking, Helen gestured for the servants to leave. When the attendants had emptied the drawing room, she stood tall before Lady Rose and declared:
“Ayla will take that class. And what’s wrong with her?”
“Good heavens.”
Lady Rose blinked between her daughters before speaking in a tone laced with disdain.
“Since when does a young girl wear her hair so short? And think about it—our Solalun family is renowned for its golden hair. How disappointing will it be if someone like her goes out claiming to be a Solalun? She’s neither bright nor pretty. What could possibly come of putting her forward?”
Helen’s cheeks flushed as though she herself had been struck. Pulling Ayla protectively behind her skirts, she retorted:
“What does it matter if she’s smart or pretty, or what others think? Do you really believe everyone thinks the same way you do, Mother?”
Lady Rose’s eyes went wide.
“Helen. Don’t tell me you actually believe that nonsense people spout about how the inside is more important than appearances? Oh, heavens. Surely not. I’m not saying the inner self doesn’t matter—but if the outside isn’t beautiful, no one ever looks deep enough to care about the inside.”
The familiar refrain left Helen suffocated. With this woman, no argument ever found its mark.
Lady Rose sighed and began to peel off her silk gloves.
“All right, let’s say you’re right. Then what? Is Ayla’s inner self so remarkably radiant that it outshines the rest? Because I don’t see it.”
Her scornful gaze swept over Ayla, making the girl flinch.
“Mother! That’s enough!”
“Don’t raise your voice, Helen. How vulgar.”
You’re the one who made a scene loud enough to rattle the house in the first place! Helen bit back the urge to shout.
Then, unexpectedly, Ayla spoke.
“Mother, if my hair bothers you, just say it was cut short because of my illness. You can tell people it’s only grown this much so far.”
Both women turned in shock. Neither had expected Ayla to speak up.
Clutching her sister’s skirt, Ayla looked up at Helen, then smiled faintly as she addressed their mother.
“Everyone knows I’ve been sickly, so they’ll understand.”
It was true—Lady Rose herself often used Ayla’s frailty as an excuse to leave her behind when the rest of the family attended events. Thanks to that, Ayla had never once been to a single family gathering.
“Hah.”
Lady Rose gave a short, sharp laugh.
“So, the eldest defies me and now even the little one dares speak so freely.”
“Mother, please stop,” Helen said firmly.
“Do not overturn my decisions. Think of me as head of this house, for once.”
The invocation of authority made Lady Rose’s lips tremble. Pearly tears rolled from her emerald eyes.
“Why… why must you make me into such a villain? Others can flatter and coddle you, but I am your mother. Who else can give you such honest advice but me?”
She fumbled for her handkerchief, pressing it to her eyes.
“Yes, yes, people will call her pretty because she’s of the Solalun line. But she isn’t. And in truth, Ayla will live her life at a disadvantage.”
Helen cut her off sharply.
“Enough, Mother. I know your opinions well, but the world doesn’t see only through your eyes.”
“Ayla will take that class. The arrangement is already made, and she cannot withdraw.”
“Then send Leo instead. He would do far better.”
“I told them Ayla would go. The sage has already accepted her.”
“…Very well. Do as you wish. It seems I alone care for the Solalun family’s honor. Since your father’s death, you call that honor outdated, but someone must still hold it.”
Her voice quivered with anger. Helen bit her lip. She longed to say that Solalun honor was not bound to the color of their hair—but there was nothing to gain by wounding her mother further.
And so she turned away from the fruitless battle. Smiling softly at Ayla, she said:
“Go back to your room, Ayla.”
The girl hesitated. Their mother, stiff and unyielding, did not so much as glance at her. After a pause, Ayla bowed her head and slipped from the room.
In the corridor, Poppy, the housekeeper, looked near tears.
“My lady…”
Ayla forced a smile.
“It’s all right. I just hope Helen doesn’t fight with Mother on my account.”
“This is not your fault. Come now, upstairs with you. I’ll bring cocoa.”
“Thank you.”
She trudged up the stairs, her small shoulders slumped.
Our young lady is perfect as she is! Poppy sniffed angrily, glancing toward the drawing room before marching off to the kitchen.
Ornamental Fish
Lady Rose dabbed at her eyes again and again.
“It’s all her fault. Even my dear Helen has turned against me…”
“Don’t fret, Rose. I’ll put Helen in her place,” crooned a gentle voice.
It belonged to her elder brother, Viscount Rodent Balan.
Alexander Solalun had always indulged his wife’s every whim, even employing Rodent’s retainers. But now that Alexander was dead, the cracks with the old vassals had widened dangerously.
Rose turned to her brother.
“You’ll deal with Helen? How?”
“You needn’t worry about that. Truthfully, it is you who should be ruling the Solalun house—not her. You’ve been too patient, too yielding. She has no respect.”
Clucking his tongue, Rodent laid a reassuring hand on his sister’s shoulder.
“Leave it to me. Your brother will handle everything.”
“Yes…” Rose sniffled, nodding.
“When Alexander was alive, he gave me everything I wished for. But the moment he died, they cast me aside. They trample the family’s honor into the dirt.”
She murmured bitterly, “I must contact Parakel at once. He will understand me.”
“Parakel? Is that necessary?” Rodent frowned, but Rose ignored him, lost in her thoughts.
“Isn’t he still at the Academy? No need to involve the children. Let the elders deal with this.”
“Yes, yes, of course.”
Yet even as she spoke, Rose resolved to summon her second son Parakel, to set him against Helen.
Ornamental Fish
After Rose’s outburst, Helen grew only more determined to support Ayla’s lessons with the sage.
“Have plenty of dresses made. A new one for every class. Never let them see you cowed.”
“Big sister, it’s not as if I’m attending a royal ball…”
“If the Crown Prince is present, then it is a royal ball. And don’t you dare wear the same dress twice.”
Poppy nodded in firm agreement.
From that day forward, the seamstresses’ fingers flew. Dress after dress was crafted for Ayla.
At the palace balls, an unwritten rule reigned: a lady who appeared twice in the same gown was utterly cast out of society. Extravagant, yes—but it only made the events more coveted.
Meanwhile, Ayla was so busy helping Helen that she hardly had a moment to breathe. She answered every question about the Solalun family with ease, tripling Helen’s efficiency at paperwork.
It was then that Parakel returned.
